These Vagabond Shoes
by swimmingcop
Summary: The Courier has done it all. The NCR is an ally, the Legion is gone, and the Mojave is finally establishing itself as a major power. It was all so boring, she just wished that something would change.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story may become silly, non-serious, or awful at times. It may also contain and reference FNV mods. Namely, New Vegas Bounties; where you hunt bounties for money, and Project Nevada; which revamps the cybernetics department. I own none of the mods, the games, or the books. I am not making this story for a profit. Let's roll.**

* * *

 _The Mojave Wasteland, 2283_

Goodsprings was possibly the quietest town in the entire Mojave. It boasted a population of around seventy or so people, which was nearly double the population since the second battle for Hoover Dam. The defeat of the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion had seen an increase in population for the small town, and far more trading than it had ever seen.

Which was still not a lot of people, but for the sleepy little town it was more than enough to stay afloat as a part of the New Vegas Union.

The fact that there were so few people living in it also made it Courier Six's favorite place to retreat to when the struggles of maintaining a nation became too stressful.

Currently, she was sitting with both feet dangling off the edge of the Goodsprings cemetery's cliff. Yes Man and Arcade Gannon were in charge of the Lucky 38 and the rest of the newborn nation while she was away on an 'extended business trip'.

Six removed the elite riot gear helmet, clipping it to a utility belt while she reached for a smoke. Out here, there was no one to disturb her. Most people weren't awake at three in the morning, and fewer still braved the Mojave Wasteland at night in the middle of winter. A surprisingly extremely cold place to be to anyone who wasn't prepared for the rapid shift in temperature.

The cigarette bathed her face in soft orange light before dimming, and the Courier sighed out smoke while she contemplated her life.

The NCR was finally coming around and treating her as the leader of a sovereign nation. Caesar and Lanius were killed by her, and the Legion remnants were either warring with each other or falling. Not to mention that her days as being the greatest bounty hunter the Mojave had ever known had lead to the complete and utter destruction of organized crime and a sharp decrease in violent crime overall.

The national and local economies were stronger than ever, and the Big Mountain scientists had told her they would be able to produce additional Securitron robots shortly, with massive upgrades to boot.

The X-22 Botanical Garden's data was being analyzed and Dr. Klein had estimated they could populate the Mojave with a wide array of crops that required minimal sustenance and care. Overall, everything was only looking up for her and the Wasteland in general.

So why did she feel like shit right now?

She almost crushed the cigarette in her hands at that, but forced herself to relax.

There was no noise except the soft howling of the wind and the creaking of the ancient windmill near the town. The cold stung at her face, but the Courier didn't pay it any attention.

" _How in the hell did things come to this"?_ she asked herself internally, wondering about the events in her life that brought her to this moment. Wasn't this where it all started?

Oh yeah. It was.

* * *

 _Dust got into her eyes, but when she tried to reach up to wipe them she... couldn't? Her arms felt so heavy and- oh shit. She was tied up. What the hell was going on._

 _She struggled, pulling with all her might but it wasn't any use. She had always been stronger than most women, but she wasn't superhuman by any means. Were those voices?_

 _"...Waking up over here?"_

 _A man dressed in the most gaudy suit she had ever seen flicked a cigarette to the ground. On both sides of him were men with black leather jackets, one with a shovel, the other looking on impatiently._

 _"Time to cash out," he drawled, crushing the cigarette underfoot._

 _"Will you get it over with?" the black man snapped, to which the man with the horrible fashion sense raised a finger._

 _"Maybe Khans kill people without looking 'em in the face, but I ain't a fink. Dig?"_

 _He sighed softly and pulled out a chip from the inside of his suit. "You've made your last delivery kid," he said in a way that wasn't mocking but felt like it was. The Courier felt her blood boil at that, only stilling to fear when he replaced the chip with a gun._

 _"Sorry you got twisted up in this scene," he apologized, and her gaze was drawn to the 9mm handgun._

 _"From where you're kneeling must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck," he mused while she tried to break free._

 _This? Her whole goddam life over a fucking poker chip?_

 _"Truth is..." she could see the bullet in the chamber, staring straight into the barrel, and she almost missed his next words._

 _"The game was rigged from the start."_

* * *

Six scowled at the memory, and glanced backwards. Yep, no one had been up here in a while, and the site was still the same as when she had last been after waking up. A shallow grave that would've been hers if it hadn't been for Victor and Mr. House.

The glare she had faded away to an expression of sadness. She hadn't wanted to kill him. It was just another part of her life that gradually went out of control.

She almost punched herself for that. The Courier wasn't an idiot enough to fool herself into thinking everything she had done was something that just 'happened.'

 _You try to act like you're above the rest of us, but truth is you're just like the old man. Just a different kind of greed. Curiosity. Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?_

God had been right about that, at least. Curiosity certainly got the better of her more often than she liked to admit. Like with drive-in's midnight showing.

* * *

 _She sat up and winced immediately. One hand on the ground to steady herself and the other raised to grab the handrail the Courier paused. She brought her other arm up just to be sure and gaped in shock._

 _Surgical scars across both of them. Bits of ink from markings to designate cuts. She felt heavier and stronger somehow and she brought a finger to her spine. It felt harder, more durable, and not at all like a human spine. More like a metal endoskeleton, and her hospital gown did little to hide the scars that covered her._

 _Six got to her feet, wincing as she did. Someone was going to answer for this._

 _She didn't even notice she lacked a heartbeat._

* * *

The Courier brought a hand to brush against the riot gear's breastplate unconsciously. She had gotten her spine and brain back, but left the heart. On the upside, it made it harder for robots to detect her and gave immunity to poisons.

And that alone was worth it. Fuck Cazadores.

She sighed and brought her legs away from the cliff, lying on her back to look at the sky in an effort to be more comfortable. It didn't work, and she couldn't even see the stars. Too many clouds.

She snarled and threw the cigarette that had been burnt almost to a stub away before the anger faded away back to sadness. She wasn't like this before. What had changed her?

* * *

 _"Hello, welcome to Randall and Associates!" the man greeted her in a distinctly southern accent. A wide brimmed hat, a mask, and goggles obscuring his face. She nodded politely and sat down in the chair, eager to discuss the holotape message that had been posted in the Goodsprings bar._

 _She wondered about the credibility of the man at first, if she should even show up, but he seemed like the real deal._

 _"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Steven Randall, owner and operator. I understand you're here for the position, is that correct?"_

 _"Yes, if it's still open," she confirmed. The Mojave Express likely wouldn't be very happy she'd lost her package, and it was good to look into different careers._

 _Hey, the bounty hunting job said it would pay well._

 _The man nodded. "Hell yes it's open! I can begin the interview if you're ready."_

 _The young woman gave a nod._

 _"I only have one question - are you willing to kill people for money? Yes or no?"_

 _That was an easy one to answer. No one really lost sleep over killing rapists, murderers, and the scum that plagued the Wasteland. Lord knew the NCR weren't doing shit to stop it._

 _"Absolutely," she said, conviction lining her face._

 _"That's good, but I need to be up front with you. You'll be pursuing high-risk bounties. Many of the targets are extremely dangerous," he cautioned her, and she nodded in agreement._

 _"But with the high stakes comes increased rewards. There's cash for every bounty, and increased payment as you complete more contracts. There's quick money in bounties, but you can rapidly make a name for yourself, and a lot of people will be looking for payback."_

 _Randall was courteous, and gave the inexperienced courier time to ponder what he had said. "So, what's your decision?" he asked shortly. "Are you still ready to pursue the bounties?"_

 _"I'm up for anything."_

 _"Your first target is Tom Quigley, a former NCR ranger who's rumored to be the best marksman in the Mojave..."_

 _Yes, she decided. Randall was an alright guy._

* * *

The Courier gave a genuine smile to herself at that. Those were the best days of her life. Doing odd jobs for people in the wastes, helping those she could, and killing outlaws for money. Really, it was a dream come true.

She just wished it could have lasted longer.

* * *

 _The knife lodged the note against the painting, and the tightening knot in her stomach told her it was nothing good. She drew her trusty riot shotgun and read the messy scrawl._

 _"Courier, Randall & Associates is finished. Your employer is dead. Javier will be with you shortly. Sincerely, the Judge."_

 _"You found the note. Good."_

 _She didn't even hear the door swing open to see who must undoubtedly be Javier. He was dressed in black business attire, and carrying a pump action shotgun in his hands._

 _"Do you know why I'm here?"_

 _"What happened to Randall?" she demanded softly._

 _"I buried him in the desert," he answered gruffly._

 _She was done talking._

* * *

The Courier stopped grinning. Yeah, that was probably around the time where she stopped being a bounty hunter out of a sense of justice and started doing it out of a personal vendetta. It probably wasn't healthy for her at all.

She snorted at her own thoughts. Now she was criticizing herself internally. Her mental state was probably debatable at this point.

Deciding she was done reminiscing, she ended that train of thought, and just focused on looking up at the sky. At the swirling dark gray clouds and what few stars she could see.

There was a sudden flash of light, and the Courier turned her head to see a streak of light cross the sky. Huh, she hadn't seen a shooting star before. Meteorite. Whatever. Weren't you supposed to get three wishes when you saw them or- no wait, that was from that other pre-war vid. You get a wish if you see one? Yeah, that sounded right.

Still, just to entertain herself if only for a moment since no one else was watching, she spoke aloud to no one in particular.

"I wish I was far away from here."

The wind still whistled, the clouds still churned, and there was a distant boom of thunder in the distance. Nothing had happened.

Well it was worth a shot, the Courier mused as her pip boy materialized a sleeping bag while she glanced at the clock. Four AM. Still enough time to get some sleep before she trekked back to the Lucky 38.

She only just managed to lay out the bedroll before the sky lit up with lightning and deafening thunder.

And just like that, the Courier's wish was granted.

* * *

 _The 'Old World Myths' DLC has been loaded. Your level cap has been raised by 10!_

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everybody! Sorry there's so little/I went on and on about stuff/that was the best you could come up with for starting a crossover?**

 **Not gonna lie to you: Totally not sure where to take this story. It's just something I'm making on the side while I focus on my other fics. Mostly The Fateless and other such stuff.**

 **The stats for the Courier in this story is gonna be posted to my profile, but first let's get a few things straightened out.**

 **Before anyone gives me shit about being overpowered with too many perks or skills and whatnot, let's all take a moment to reflect upon a few things. The Courier is, canonically, someone who defeated 3, at least 2 entire armies, either through cleverness, negotiating, or fighting. Plus this is just a story. No need to get worked up over shit.**

 **Now that we've got that out of the way, I'd like to thank everyone who's been brave enough to stick around this far. Hope you enjoy the story and have a good day.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I said it before and I'll say it again: I don't own the Percy Jackson series, nor do I own Fallout and its mods. That goes to Riordan, Bethesda, and the mod authors respectively. Also I take my time in updating because I don't like scheduled updates if I can't be inspired enough to write. So some chapters might be super long and come out within a weekly period and other times I might write 1-2K words in ten months. It depends.**

 **I realize I should probably elaborate a bit, this story will heavily reference not just the New Vegas Bounties mods by mod author Someguy2000, but most of his other mods. Including King of the Ring, Russell, and The Inheritance. Once again, I don't own those at all and will take this story down should he so request. (I'd be surprised if he read this to be honest) And if you don't know what those mods are about, Google them, and play them if possible because they are the bomb.**

 **Also I'm not titling my chapters for this story like I am on the other ones I write because I can't think of anything clever.**

 **Anyways, done making excuses, here's chapter 2.**

* * *

 _Camp Half-Blood, 2011_

The Hermes Cabin was for once, pretty quiet.

It was in part due to the war with the Giants. Pretty simple concept, really. A lot of people had fought, and a lot of them died. As a result, the once overcrowded cabin was now just somewhat above its intended maximum capacity instead of bursting to the brim with campers as it had been only a few years ago.

Still, new demigods were coming in every so often, and though it was a lot slower than before, the cabin was slowly but surely rebuilding its numbers. And with every passing day, the previous wars that had wracked the population of Camp Half-Blood became more of a memory and less of a recent event. Things were settling back to normal, and it seemed like maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

Most people in the Hermes Cabin were already asleep by one in the morning, but in the small cordoned off area reserved for the cabin counselors, there was a room. In that room, there was a table. Surrounding the table were some chairs. And upon those chairs, three somewhat bored demigods were trying to teach the Oracle how to play a game.

"Okay, how do I summon this one?"

Connor tried to hold back a sigh before realizing he didn't care enough to put in the effort.

"You need to put down a land card first," he admonished Rachel Elizabeth Dare. "Any kind really, but your deck is the fire one so I assume you've only got mountain cards in it."

"Okay- wait do I draw one?"

 _Why did I agree to do this?_

Spending a Thursday night playing a game of cards with some friends actually sounded pretty fun. Granted, if you were a child of Hermes any game that it was possible to cheat in was fun but he had figured they would be playing poker or something that everyone knew.

"Yes," his older brother Travis answered her with slightly more patience than him. "You draw a card at the start of every turn no matter what."

"Okay," Rachel replied, scrunching up her face as she tried to concentrate, tapping her hand that wasn't holding any of her Mythology: The Assembling cards against the table. All the while her gaze shifted over each card she had, scrutinizing it for details while everyone else either looked on in boredom or did the same thing with their deck.

Jake Mason, a Hephaestus kid who the twins had discovered also played the game in a random conversation stifled a yawn and rearranged his cards while Rachel kept figuring out what she was going to do. It was not something that Connor was entirely surprised at, considering it had taken the four of them about half an hour just to explain the rules, and then even longer to go through just the first turn.

Gods knew he was just as clueless the first time he tried playing, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

"You guys mind if I crash here tonight?" Jake asked the two brothers as he sipped from a can of Coke. "Not gonna lie, I'm too tired to run from the harpies outside all the way to Cabin 9."

"Go for it," Travis replied, his disinterested gaze clearly indicating the matter didn't bother him in the slightest. If Connor was being honest, which was a rare thing, it didn't matter to him either.

Rachel was still looking at her cards, asking for clarification a few more times to be answered by Travis. Connor thrummed his fingers against the table in irritation while simultaneously wondering if he could draw another card without anyone noticing.

Which to him seemed totally fair. It's not like he meant to draw some of the most useless cards in his deck.

"So like, today please-" Connor started before Rachel slammed a card against a table with enough force to make everyone who wasn't paying attention jump in surprise.

"Okay!" the redhead said brightly, throwing everyone off for a moment. "So first I'm going to put this land down, and un-tap the one from my last turn," she muttered, rotating the cards.

"Then I'm going to place _this_ card," she announced, throwing one to the side of her others. "And at the cost of two mana, I get to destroy a single land card of my opponent. So Connor I choose you. And I'm un-tapping this creature, doing nothing with it... now my turn's over," Rachel proclaimed proudly, and Connor blinked as he took in the details before moving to confirm if what he was seeing was real.

 _Instant: Firebombing_

 _Cost: 2 Mana._

 _Effect: Destroys a single land card of a selected opponent. Can be deployed at any time..._

"Okay," he stopped reading. "Well that's..." Connor struggled with the right word, even as he flicked his victim card off the playing field.

"That was bullshit, but impressive bullshit, Rachel," he grudgingly admitted.

The red-haired girl flashed a smile at that. "I told you, I'm a fast-"

Suddenly, everything went to Tartarus pretty much instantly.

The windows of Cabin 11 flew open violently, as though someone had thrown them open in a hurry. A wind that felt like a mini-tornado swept through the room, sending the cards flying off the table much to the dismay of Connor and Travis as Rachel's eyes began to glow a solid otherworldly green.

"Uh-oh," Connor said, his words lost to the sounds of the howling wind, screaming, and Rachel's newest prophecy.

* * *

Courier Six was no stranger to being knocked unconscious and transported somewhere else.

It had started with the Brotherhood of Steel bunker out near Camp Forlorn Hope, where she had been exposed to knockout gas and dragged away by a Super Mutant reject to the hell that was the Sierra Madre. It happened again when she took too many blows to the head during her boxing career. And a third time when a cannibal had attempted to drug then kill and eat her.

Not that any of these would happen again, a side effect of constantly wearing a helmet with a built in gas mask and a mostly bulletproof skull courtesy of the Think Tank scientists at Big Mountain, of course.

But that wasn't important right now. What was important was that she was lying on her side in what appeared to be an alley and she didn't remember who had brought her here. Nestled between two old brick and concrete buildings with scattered papers and what smelled like four, maybe five day old trash bags in dumpsters a few feet away.

This was actually a pretty familiar sight, she conceded to herself. Maybe she'd just gotten carried away with her drinking and ended up in Freeside.

Standing up shattered that entire train of thought in an instant for a multitude of reasons.

In the Mojave, the heat was everywhere. It lessened during winter and mostly went away at night, but during the day the sunlight was blistering and the humidity was omnipresent. It clung to the air and no matter how accustomed you were to the climate, it always made your skin sticky and throat dry in a matter of half a minute.

So when she actually stood up and didn't feel the sensation of the 'hotter than any human should endure' hell that she had acclimatized to but rather a warm but bearable temperature, she knew something was wrong, and that there was no possible way she was in the Mojave anymore.

Plus now that there was time to think, she realized the flaw in considering she had drunkenly stumbled all the way to outer Vegas from a town thirty miles away. If she could drink Cass under the table, what were the odds she could get drunk enough to end up in some alley far from the sleepy little town she was in? Something was up, but what was it?

Giving a cautious glance from one end of the alley to the other and only seeing the shadows of people passing by on one end and a dead end on the other, the Courier raised her left arm to view her most cherished possession.

A RobCo Industries Personal Information Processor, or as most people knew it, a Pip-Boy 3000.

The familiar amber screen flickered to life, and Six immediately checked the weapons and armor tab. _Good,_ she breathed a sigh of relief. She still had all her gear, at least no one had taken it from her. No one had tampered with her armor either, the inventory display clearing showing her she still had the elite riot gear and a official presidential uniform of the New Vegas Union, which was really just a suit and tie with a gold pin on the collar.

Although she didn't feel injured, a quick check at the diagnostics section wouldn't hurt. The cartoonish rendition of Vault-Boy glowed back cheerily at her, reflecting all her uninjured limbs and zero radiation poisoning-

Wait. Zero?

Courier Six double checked the readout, but it stayed the same. She wasn't suffering from a single rad of gamma radiation, and furthermore there was little or no background radiation. Strange. Even with most of the missiles from the Great War shot down by House's defenses, there were still enough to leave _some_ background radiation. Not that it ever killed people unless they lived their whole lives without taking any medicine to counter it, but zero?

Next up: locatio- _shiiiiiiiiiit._

ERROR: NO COMPATIBLE GPS SATELLITES IN RANGE

PLEASE UPDATE TO THE LATEST VERSION IN SOFTWARE COMPATIBILITY OR CONTACT ROBCO TECHNICAL SUPPORT

All the more reason to think she was a hell of a lot farther than the entirety of Nevada. She slumped against the brick building, feeling bewildered and much more lost than she had been in a long time. And while she had only checked to see if there were people outside, which there certainly were, definitely more than even the Strip, she could already tell this was like no city she had ever seen before. It was louder and sounded busier than a hundred copies of New Vegas. So where..?

Suddenly, all the memories of the previous night came flooding back to her. Boredom. A star. A wish.

"Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me," she muttered before moving to the open part of the alley in realization. At the last second before she'd be highly visible to the outside world, she completely disappeared from view, becoming as transparent as glass.

Ninety-nine percent of the time, being a cyborg was awesome. This was one of those times.

The cloak wouldn't last long, however. Still, she made the most of the twenty to thirty seconds of invisibility. Crouching down and hugging the wall, the Courier came to a sight that put all her past experiences to shame.

A massive concrete and steel and glass landscape. Neon lights like the ones on the Strip flashed and proclaimed stores were open. Buildings that were bigger than even the Lucky 38 shot into the sky, towering above everyone and everything. Cars, honest-to-god _cars_ were driving up and down the busy street, and what had to be hundreds more were parked by the sidewalks, which stretched as far as the eye could see.

But what surprised her the most were the _people._

There were so many of them, and clad in all kinds of different clothing! Six thought she knew what a big crowd of people looked like, but this dwarfed everything before. There wasn't so much a lot of people as much as there was a _river_ of them, constantly moving and looking and rushing and doing so much it was impossible to keep track of them all.

And while everyone back in say, Freeside had access to clean, if cold and short showers, they didn't look as spotless as everyone here. It was a small detail, but something that she noticed immediately upon realizing the absence of the odor of unwashed bodies and grimy clothes. These were people who bathed regularly. They lived in a city that had never seen war in its lifetime, wearing clothes that looked recently made and untarnished by neglect.

 _I wished to be somewhere far away..._

How far had the apparently genuinely magical star sent her?

A sudden beeping went off that only she could hear, and the Courier's gaze flickered up to the top of her HUD. Seeing that the invisibility was about to wear off, she backed away into the alley, getting behind the dumpster before decloaking, her armor becoming visible once again.

Well, she was apparently in either an _extremely_ well preserved city or was sometime before the bombs fell, if the skyscrapers and completely unfamiliar cars were anything to go by. That, or the most vivid drug-fueled trip she had ever been on. And given the lack of being surrounded by empty inhalers and syringes, that did not seem the case.

"Shit," she muttered beneath her breath, wondering if she seriously had travelled through time. It would honestly not be the most unbelievable thing that had happened to her, considering a crashed satellite at a movie drive-in theater had once teleported her to a science-fiction-esque dome once, but still...

A few minutes of quiet disbelief passed over her as the Courier tried and failed to dredge up any other explanation. When it was over, all she could think to do was to figure out where the hell she was

Actually, Six realized after a second of trying to remember if there was anywhere in the Old World that held a city as expansive as this, the first thing to do was find some new clothes. Not that her education on the Old World had been thorough, but she was pretty sure they didn't let you carry guns around in public, and she got enough looks back home with the imposing armor of the riot gear. It probably wouldn't go so well here either.

Invisibility was out of the question, she didn't have enough stealth boys to make it out of what little she saw of the massive cityscape, and her own nanobots would overheat and fail long before she made it down the street.

So, Six mused to herself as she flicked back to the apparel section of her Pip-Boy. It wouldn't be ideal to get stopped by the police for wearing armor and brandishing a gun, and her business attire was not a good thing to wear in a fight, which was something she tended to get involved in more often than not. Getting some new clothes that were preferably inconspicuous and maneuverable were a priority.

There was a gurgling sound, and Six instinctively drew her Ranger Sequoia, the decorative revolver searching for targets amongst the deserted alley. A few seconds of scanning for a nonexistent threat later, the Courier realized it was her own stomach. Alright, she realized, embarrassed and slightly grateful no one had been around to see that. So clothes, and food. A pretty basic shopping list. It was a good thing she was one of the richest people in the wasteland.

A second and a click of a button on the Pip-Boy later, and the armored weave of the riot gear and its helmet disappeared in a small flash of light, replaced by simple dark blue business attire and a black tie. Olive drab armor plating on her legs was swapped for black paints and matching slacks, completing the 'innocuous businesswoman' look she was aiming for.

Good, the Courier thought to herself. Just from the few seconds she had glimpsed, formal attire wasn't out of place here. Hopefully no one would notice or care that she just happened to walk out of an alley with apparently one entrance/exit.

Patting her pocket to ensure she still had her knife tucked into her pocket for easy access, she decided it was time to explore this new city.

The Courier walked swiftly out of the alley, before slowing down to a leisurely walk as she followed the sidewalk and the steady current of people while trying to look inconspicuous.

It must have worked, or the people didn't care. No one so much as batted an eye at her as she attempted to keep her gaze low to the ground, only sending them to look up a few times, each time seeing a sight more puzzling than the last.

The thing that grabbed her attention the most were the advertisements, however. Although it was not so much the product itself as much as what it was being advertised on.

The Courier looked up for a few moments, and saw a massive rectangular screen that could not have been one of the CRT screens she had seen so many times before. For one thing, it wasn't in a monochromatic green, and secondly it was too crisp and clear. Before she knew it the whole screen flashed, displaying some other ad about a watch, which seemed completely useless to someone who owned a Pip-Boy, but that wasn't the part that caught her attention. It was the date.

OFFER VALID: JAN 2011-JUL 2012

That was more than sixty years before the Great War.

In spite of the fact it was something she had certainly given thought to, the idea that she was almost certainly sent through time was beginning to fully sink in to her, and the Courier rested against the streetlight for a second, feigning sickness when the people around looked at her strangely.

Jesus Christ, how in the hell had whispering a semi-sarcastic wish to a meteorite done this?

After getting thoroughly sidetracked by that train of thought, the Courier almost bumped into a small crowd of people who had stopped before a series of white painted stripes on the road, staring ahead while someone pushed a red button on one of the streetlights near them.

Hey, she had seen one of those before. It was in a copy of _¡La Fantoma!_ And if her memory still worked, then weren't you supposed to wait until a light turned green before moving?

Sure enough, one of the two black squares on the opposite post lit up with a symbol of a glowing green man, and everyone began to briskly walk forward. The Courier followed, if only because she had stopped at the light and had become invested in appearing to be like everyone else.

Fortunately it seemed to be the right choice, as the window of the store in front of her must have been a fashion store if the mannequin in the window and stylized letting on the glass was anything to go by. She stepped inside, allowing the cool air conditioned breeze to wash over her, shivering slightly. Spending years adjust to the Mojave heat did not do wonders for one's tolerance for cold.

"Hi there!" an upbeat voice greeted her, and the Courier turned to face its source, a young woman with black hair done up in a ponytail and coupled with a friendly grin. Judging from the immaculate collared shirt with a nametag, this was probably a store employee.

"Hello," the Courier responded as warmly as she could manage. There was an awkward silence between the two when their eyes met, but the employee put her winning smile back on quickly, no doubt to try and sell her something.

"Uh, anyways, welcome to Stacy's! Is there anything in particular you're looking for, ma'am?"

Now that was a good question. Really, some type of shirt and jacket with a bulletproof vest would be ideal, but they probably didn't sell those here. So instead the Courier opted to look less like a psychopath and more like a normal person by brushing her bangs of hair out of her eyes and not demanding body armor. "Nothing in particular, I'm just looking for a good set of casual clothes, and some running shoes if you have 'em."

"Certainly, ma'am!" There was that impossibly cheery smile again. The sales associate lead her to a decorative clothing rack. "Right this way, please. We have a large selection of T-shirts, starting at..."

It was at this point that the Courier zoned out, coming to terms with the fact that while she was the richest person in the entire Mojave, paying with bottlecaps was surely going to be out of the question here, and this did not look the kind of establishment that tolerated haggling.

Which meant she would have to get creative.

"...Personally I like these ones more," the employee was saying, lifting a neon green shirt that was so bright it stung the Courier's eyes slightly. "But I hear that they aren't as comfortable as-"

"Excuse me," Six cut in, trying to look as coy as she could. "But I never did get your name, beautiful." [Perk: Cherchez La Femme]

She had always been a good judge of character, and this was no exception. The employee's eyes widened a bit, and her cheeks turned a slight tinge of red. Almost imperceptibly so, but the Courier could see her words had the desired effect.

"My name's Janet," she answered steadily, but there were subtle tells that someone as perceptive as her picked out immediately. _Slightly hitched breathing. Dilation of pupils._

"Well, it's nice to meet someone as cute as you," the Courier replied, batting her eyelashes slightly, not letting up her facade. "I'm Sarah," she lied, picking a fake name at random as she took a step closer to the enthralled woman.

"And I was wondering if you're doing anything tonight," Six continued, moving one arm around Janet's shoulders, an action she did not protest against, while grabbing one of the shirts she had picked out.

Janet didn't seem to notice.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, and the Courier had two new shirts and a pair of men's pants since she couldn't find any others that fit her size.

That, plus twenty dollars and Janet's phone number, though she was beginning to realize the problem with that when she didn't have a phone, Six thought as she looked at the slip of paper with a 10-digit number hastily written on. The Courier felt guilty about the whole thing to tell the truth, stringing her on like that all to get some free clothes when the Janet wasn't paying attention. Stealing money from the register hadn't been of much help to her conscience either. When she got back, she'd have to buy something from the store and 'accidentally' leave behind more money than she meant to.

And also maybe buy a phone and call Janet. After finishing this drink, of course.

Six sipped at her 'coffee', suppressing a shudder and gritting her teeth as the sugary drink went down her throat. Was everything in the Old World this sweet? The first time she had drank some she almost collapsed, only remaining standing by sheer force of will. This 'Starbucks' was stronger than she thought. Even Nuka-Cola wasn't like this.

As a result, she'd resorted to carefully rationed sips so as not to kill herself. All while observing the area around her, of course.

She had ignored it before, but as she sat down on a park bench the Courier was reminded of just how _different_ everything was.

She brushed a foot against the grass, watching the blades curl and sway in a slight breeze. That was new. The only time she had ever seen grass before was at Big Mountain, and for some reason it was dyed blue.

No one had ever really explained that to her, actually. Now she was regretting not asking the scientists.

Grass aside, there was also trees, actual living _trees_ in the park. Massive things she had only read about in books, with leaves a verdant shade of green the Mojave Wasteland had never even heard of. Not even Vault 22 had anything even close to the level of grandeur the plants here had. Christ, the miniature orchard stretched for miles! How had the people here transported them into this massive city?

The question brought her back to the uncomfortable subject of just what the fuck had happened and where was she?

The Courier raised her Pip-Boy as if to see if it had fixed itself in the last half an hour, only to get another error message when she scrolled to the map tab. The device earned her a few curious looks from those who were passing by, a subtle detail that she picked up on; these people had never seen a Pip-Boy before in her life. Even the drugged out Fiends knew what one was, and how valuable they could be.

The fact that these people didn't recognize RobCo's most advertised product ever, plus that ad she had seen earlier only served to reinforced the time travel theory.

 _Serves me right for wishing for more bullshit in my life,_ the Courier snorted quietly. So, she mused, setting her drink down next to her, all that was left now was to figure out what in the hell she was going to do now.

Then the biggest dog she had ever seen bounded towards her faster than a Deathclaw and sank its teeth into her shoulder.

* * *

 _Chapter Glossary for those unaware of some of the things mentioned here, because a life without learning is a life wasted._

 _Elite Riot Gear: A unique and most advanced model of the L.A.P.D. riot armor, assigned to NCR riot control officers in the Divide. Featuring even more reinforced and lightweight armor plating, as well as a built in flashlight, gas filter, and night optics, this third-generation combat armor is the most versatile and protective set of non-power armor available._

 _Stealth Boy: A personal stealth device worn on one's wrist, developed by RobCo Industries. It generates a modulating field that transmits the reflected light from one side of an object to the other, making the user almost invisible save for a slight shimmer._

 _Stealth Nano-Bots: Based on previous innovations, RobCo presents its latest breakthrough in stealth technology. Nano-Bots reside on the users skin, eliminating the need for any special device to generate the stealth field. Power has to be periodically recharged by external energy sources._

 _Cherchez La Femme: 'Search for the woman'. In Combat, you do +10% damage against female opponents. Outside of combat, you'll sometimes have access to unique dialogue options when dealing with the same sex._

* * *

 **A/N: As I said earlier, this story is going to be a while to update since it's been a while since the last time I read the books. That and I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with it, plot-wise I mean.**

 **If you think it's unrealistic why the Courier isn't shocked at the things she saw or deduced immediately upon arrival, keep in mind this is a person that ran through the DLCs and the main quest and came out mostly unscathed. Realistically if you stayed sane after that, not much would shock you.**

 **Sorry this chapter doesn't include the part that everyone reads crossovers for, where the main character(s) from one universe encounter the ones from the other and everyone freaks out. I got lazy.**

 **Once more, if the mod authors or whoever decide they don't like this story enough to want me to remove it, I will. And if any of ya'll don't like the fact that I'm including mods in this fic, well then, too bad. It already happened.**

 **For those of you who either can't or won't use mods and don't know what I'm talking about with the stealth nanobots thing, basically that particular mod works by you going around the wasteland and finding miscellaneous cybernetic implant items. Take them to a doctor and you can attach them to yourself. Four implants can go into the head and chest if you take all perks, and two to the arms and legs each. Some provide passive abilities and others are activated.**

 **Stealth nanobots in particularly work by just pressing 'x' to go invisible and require small energy cells to operate. It automatically shuts down to recharge if you use it for too long though.**

 **Anyways, it's back to mostly writing chapters of The Fateless for me. Later guys, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Take care.**


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